This is my contribution to #AdultSexEdMonth. This is personal and does contain mentions of taboo sexual fetishes and kinks. I don’t apologize for the contents of my sexual fantasies.

I have a problem with sex. The problem happens when I involve anyone else with my enjoyment of sex. Masturbation is divine. You won’t catch me saying that to anyone, in person. But, masturbation is fully under my control, there is no feedback from cheap seats and I can do whatever I want to myself because I know what I like and how I like it. I explore self pleasuring – I’ve been doing it for a few decades and I’m just getting better at it all the time.

Why does sex have to be about more than one person? I think most people consider self pleasure to still be a selfish act. Or, something for only the lonely.

In actual fact, the best sex I have ever had (except for one very special situation) has been when I was alone in the room. Alone in the building even. In my thoughts I am sometimes alone on the planet even but for my trusty sex bot, or some weird space alien, or other creature from my imagination or readings of other people’s erotica. I do love a good story.

In my sexual fantasies nothing is taboo. I can masturbate my way to orgasm with fantasies of being abducted, alien men with extreme and unusually shaped cocks, age play (based on my own experience of being molested in a movie theatre – which does seem strange to me but nevertheless), sex with animals (the only time I like being near a dog) or anything else wild, dangerous and among the things I would never do in reality and would not even discuss or admit to anyone who knows me.

Having a great imagination and making use of it for your own pleasure does not make you a sexual deviant, it may make you a sexual oddity. But there is nothing law breaking about dreaming up assorted sexual situations while you lie in bed, sit at your desk or in the car… and give yourself a great orgasm.

I have learned to be quiet and fairly quick about it. I almost had my first orgasm when I was about 10. The sensations freaked me out so I stopped at the beginning of the build up. I had no idea why my body was reacting the way it was then. I hadn’t read anything about sex. Parents and sexual education in school didn’t talk about women having orgasms, how your body could flush with pleasure and then burst, all without breaking anything.

In those days I had fantasies about being looked after by a TV doctor, Dr. Kildare for those old enough to know or curious enough to look it up. Richard Chamberlain was the actor. I know this fantasy was based on my issues with my Father. I wanted that caring Daddy who would wrap me up in cotton balls, kiss me gently and make me feel good. I didn’t know about sex toys and had none. I used to bring things to bed with me and use them to play with myself. I won’t go into the assortment but, pens and pencils became my favourite bedtime pastime. Twirling a pencil over my clitoris was a good sensation.

My first orgasm came not from any understanding or knowledge about what I was doing. It was just an accident, on purpose. I was curious about the build up of sensations and finally became curious enough to keep going and see what happened next. I was a little frightened, maybe more than a little. Still, some part of my brain must have known it wasn’t unnatural, in spite of how unusual it seemed. After that first orgasm many more were to follow. By the time I was in my later twenties I was enjoying an orgasm daily. By myself.

I was a virgin, technically, until I was in my early thirties. That was the sex I mentioned earlier. We were both virgins, both the same age and both social misfits. We had been friends for years before sex came into it. We are friends again since the divorce too. So I am one of those old fashioned types who married the first man she slept with. By the way, having sex as a virgin, with a virgin was phenomenal. I doubt it would have been that amazing if we had both been younger. Without having the experience yourself I don’t think you can really ever know what it is like to have your body worshipped.

Anyway, back to the masturbation.

Masturbation can be done with nothing at all, this makes it very portable, mobile even. Sometimes I do like the feeling of something else touching me, something that does not return the feeling which I get from using my own fingers. I used to use the pencils and pens but I have since graduated to a vibrator. I don’t use batteries in it. For one thing, the noise is distracting and for another, I don’t need it to jump or shimmy or vibrate. I like it to penetrate me – but only the odd time. Mostly I like the vibrator (it’s a soft one, not hard plastic) to rub over my clitoris and push just inside the inner lips of my vagina. I’ve read that vagina only has sensation, the ability to feel, for the first few inches. I have found it to be true. Although I can enjoy the fantasy of being penetrated by something huge, in fact, I enjoy the dip more than the fill up.

Our culture has so many taboos about women and sex, masturbation and virginity and there I was right in the cross-hairs of all three. I haven’t slept around since the divorce and the marriage itself was light on the sex. But, I don’t feel deprived, anxious or abnormal. I love the orgasms I give myself. Men just seem to mess it all up.

My last actual boyfriend talked so much about how much sex we would have and then… he changed his mind. It ended up with me masturbating him and getting very little back from him. That just isn’t going to work out for me. It was ok for awhile but cock sucking is a double edged thing. I heard my brother and his friends call each other cock suckers and they didn’t mean it like it was a good thing. So, how can men expect women to become cock suckers if being a cock sucker is a bad thing? You can’t have it both ways. So, cock sucking makes me feel dirty, used and angry too.

So, sex with men has not really panned out for me. Men don’t really seem to get it. For one thing they focus on their own needs and when it comes to a woman they think of boobs and pussy, if that much. I want a man who knows I have a body, who discovers how aroused I can get by having my back stroked, lightly scratched and rubbed. I want a man who pats my bum and slips his finger into my pussy from behind. I want a man to explore sensual kinkiness and fetishes with me. I want a man who is masculine and knows what he wants but likes to have a woman in charge sexually. I want a man I can tie up, put in a cage and tease and torment and then laugh at him while he squirms. I want a man who can be a partner in my sexual fantasies and then add his own twist, or take over and become the Daddy who takes care of me but coaxes me to do bad things, naughty things…

I haven’t found that man. I think he might be available in years to come. Ordered online and shipped in a crate. I’d like mine to have a wind up key and an off button. It would be nice if he can also shrink in size for some of my fantasies about little men, like the tiny people from Gulliver’s Travels. I won’t go into details, just leave that for your own kinky, sensual imagination the next time you have some time to yourself and let your fingers do the walking.

Masturbation is very relaxing in the evening when you can’t sleep. (Just in case you didn’t already know).

Doctor Who starts up again this week. I’m looking forward to more time travelling, planet hopping adventures.

How would time travel work in a sex scene? Imagine… you start out kissing in the current time. Next thing you’re back in the days of cave people and you’re being dragged off by your hair. As if that weren’t enough, you escape with most of your scalp still attached only to be shot into the far future where everyone lives in a glass house, a sterile environment. Making love is out of the question. Touching another person is considered far too icky, germy and gross.